


You Can Count On Me

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Midnight, Sad, Sick Character, anyway just read it, more worrisome than sad, sick!patrick, well not really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: Patrick wakes up in the middle of the night, and he feels awful. While walking to the bathroom for some Tylenol, he faints. Scared when he gains consciousness, he goes to the only other person in the house for comfort: his loving husband.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	You Can Count On Me

**Author's Note:**

> (Based on a true story)

“Oh, my god,” Patrick mumbled, sitting up in his bed. He had a pulsing headache and he was sweating all over. His forehead, his armpits, even his legs, were all soaked in sweat. It felt like it had rained on his bed. He checked to make sure he didn’t wet the bed, and let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was just sweat. He felt hot, too. Really hot. Feverish, at best. He stood up to get Tylenol, and felt shaky as soon as his feet hit the ground. “Oh, my god.” He said again. Slowly and carefully, he made his way out of his room. 

The bathroom is just across the hall, and it’s usually accessible within five steps, but now... now it seemed so far away. A ringing started in Patrick’s ear, and it only got louder and higher-pitched. His vision started to blur, and his head felt extremely fuzzy. The ringing blended with the blurriness, and his headache kept pulsing. Patrick leaned against the wall, holding on for dear life. It didn’t help much. He coughed, whispering, “Sweet mother of—“

He couldn’t finish his sentence. Patrick lost all consciousness, and crashed down to the floor. 

An undetermined amount of time later, he slowly opened his eyes. The ringing in his ear was replaced with a different sound. It was like... like a faucet. A faucet getting louder and louder. He curled up on the floor and covered his ears. _Not right now, not right now._ He thought to himself. He tried to talk. Nope. Can’t do that, either. He wanted Pete. Where was Pete? Wouldn’t the noise of Patrick’s fall woken him up? Patrick made constant efforts to say his husband’s name, and felt proud of himself when he was able to whisper. “P-Pete. Pete, I need you,” He mumbled weakly. Pete couldn’t hear him, and Patrick knew that, but he was still glad he could get his thoughts out. 

After five minutes, he got the strength to rise onto his feet, holding back onto the wall just for stability. He shuffled all the way downstairs to Pete’s bedroom, and didn’t bother to knock on the door. Pete wasn’t even asleep; he was just tapping at his phone. He looked over at Patrick, and smiled. “Hey, babe,” He said, “What’s up?”

For no reason at all, Patrick started crying. “I fainted.” He sobbed. “I fainted, Pete.”

Pete’s smile faded into concern. He put down his phone onto the bedside table and opened his arms. “C’mere,” He cooed. Patrick nodded and made his way over. He laid down next to Pete and tucked his face under Pete’s chin. He kept crying softly, balling up Pete’s t-shirt in his fingers. “It’s okay, Patrick. It’s okay. Did it hurt?” Pete stroked his hair, holding him close in the dark. 

Patrick sniffled. “My head hurts so badly, man.” 

“Have you taken Tylenol? Ibuprofen? Acetaminophen?”

”I was going to, but I fainted on the way to the bathroom.” Patrick dried his tears on Pete’s shirt and breathed as slowly as he could. “I know I’ve said this, but it hurts.”

”So it hurt _before_ you went to the bathroom?” Pete lifted Patrick’s head with two fingers and made eye contact.

Patrick nodded. “It hurt when I woke up.”

”Fever?”

”Totally. Haven’t checked my temp yet, but I feel like the desert sun.”

Pete chuckled, “Feeling like the desert sun. Remind me to use that as a song lyric, baby.”

”Alright.” Patrick started to smile again, but it faded. The fuzzy feeling in his head returned, and his eyes blurred again. “Pete Pete PETE!” He yelped. 

“What? Patrick, talk to me!” Pete put his hand on Patrick’s burning cheek and kissed him on the forehead. 

Patrick breathed heavily. “I’m fainting again!” He went limp, but he could still hear Pete whispering quickly in his ear.

”Patrick, please, talk. Don’t faint, love. I love you. Talk to me, talk to me.”

Patrick was shaking. “Okay. Okay okay okay. Okay, Pete. I’m talking, I’m not fainting. I just feel like I might.” Patrick closed his eyes and couldn’t open them easily. “I... I love you, and– and I need you, and I’m so glad you married me. There. Is that enough talk f-f-f-for you?” Patrick made an attempt to laugh, but it sounded really pained. Pete furrowed his eyebrows with concern as he kept holding Patrick close to his chest. 

"How about you just sleep in my room for the rest of the night," he suggested, "and I'll just wake you up every so often to check on you. Hopefully you're not concussed."

"Okay. Okay." Patrick mumbled before falling asleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> Clean comments!


End file.
